Basic Thaumaturgy for the Emotional Incompetent [A Magical Academy LitRPG]

"Huh? Copy?" Celine tilted her head. "Faultweave won't trigger unless you've properly learned Tremblehold."

"I know," he replied. "But I'm not trying to cast it. I just need to copy the motion. I think that's the last piece."

She gave him a skeptical look but didn't stop him. "Alright," she said slowly. "But don't twist your knee. The stance sequencing's weird if you're not used to it."

Fabrisse nodded, then took a deep breath. He closed his eyes for half a second, recalling her movements in sequence: the weight pressed into the left foot, the subtle wrist flex, the delay.

The ground stayed still. He thought he'd missed a couple steps, but he could tell exactly what he'd done wrong: he didn't shake his fingers. That understanding might've been enough.

"I think I've got it," Fabrisse murmured.

"You've learned the spell?" Celine asked.

"No. But I think I've learned how it worked. I can unlock it later."

"What do you mean 'unlock'?"

Fabrisse froze for a bit too long. Why did I say that? She's not supposed to know about the Eidralith. "Ah—sorry. Bad phrasing. I mean I'll try to recreate it later, on my own terms. You know. Practice until it clicks. Haha." He gave a half-laugh that sounded more like a cough and quickly looked down, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve like it was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Riiiight." Celine squinted. "I only let you off the hook because I know better than to dig into it again."

"Are there any Tier 3 spells in the book?"

"There are. But I can't cast them. I didn't plan on delving that deep into Stone Thaumaturgy, you know."

Well, there goes my hope of learning more high-level spells, he thought. If he couldn't observe someone cast a spell, he'd have a hard time registering it.

He needed a distraction, so he asked, "So . . . what's gotten you into Stone Thaumaturgy? Very few people choose it as an elective."

Celine shrugged, accepting the change of subject. "Yeah, it's supposed to be difficult. But Anabeth's lineage has training methods that basically shortcut the hard part. They've been tuning their affinity for generations. So learning lower-tier Stone stuff is barely harder than Water, if you're in the know."

"That's a terrifying advantage."

"Oh yeah. But Stone's not the end goal." She held up two fingers. "I'm building out from Stone and Fire. Once I've got both tuned, I'll be able to access Crystal derivatives."

"That's cool." Fabrisse nodded.

Celine nodded along, her eyes lighting up a bit. "Right; right? It's miles beyond basic Stone. Crystals are structured but responsive. They don't need to be shaped the way raw Stone does, and they practically grow themselves if you thread the aether right. If you do Fire well, I'd recommend going with that hybrid affinity too."

A sharp voice cut across the clearing. "Hey, guys. How are you doing?"

Fabrisse stiffened like a log of wood. Celine's smile froze.

Liene strolled over with an easy smile, but there was a tightness behind her eyes that didn't match her tone. She stopped a few steps away, hands clasped behind her back like she was simply taking a walk. "Didn't mean to interrupt. It looked like you two were having fun." Her gaze lingered on the half-formed glyphs in the dust. "Stone practice, huh? Interesting. Pretty sure that wasn't on anyone's schedule today."

Celine blinked. "Right. That's—yeah. I totally spaced."

"We all did," Fabrisse mumbled, suddenly aware of how warm his collar felt.

"Oh, no worries," Liene said lightly. "I was just waiting by the east steps, just for fifteen minutes! Y'know. For the thing. The thing we planned." She gave Fabrisse a pointedly cheerful smile. "Alchemy Tower?"

Celine clasped her cheeks. "I, ah, I forgot! Sorry. We can still go now, right?"

"You forgot. It's fine! You both just . . . forgot." Liene's smile tightened.

"I didn't!" Celine stiffened. "I just—uh—we should go now! Let's go!" She glanced at Fabrisse, then turned to Liene with an apologetic grin. "I'll grab my stuff. Come on; we can still make it, yeah?"

Without waiting for an answer, she gave Fabrisse a quick wave, half-guilty and half-encouraging. "Keep it up! You're on a roll."

She dashed off toward the eastern steps, leaving a small puff of dust behind.

Liene stayed put.

She turned slowly to Fabrisse, still wearing a faint smile, but it didn't reach her eyes anymore.

"I heard you're re-taking your Synaptic Control practical," she said. "You're really tryharding now, huh?" Nobody else used 'tryharding'; it seemed like she just made that up.

"Uh, yeah."

The silence dragged out, long enough to make Fabrisse feel uncomfortable.

"You're studying hard; that's great!" Her voice lifted just slightly too high to sound natural. "But hey, maybe you'll have time in like three days? This Wednesday? Just a bit? Pie shop or something?"

Fabrisse hesitated. Three days . . . He might be busy. Especially with the Void thing going on . . . He might be super busy, and possibly in danger, actually. He wished he could've told Liene about this, but Archmagus Rolen had made it clear: nobody could tell anyone about the incident. And he was going to follow that warning religiously. Liene was just a student like him; she wasn't well-equipped to deal with this level of threat. Dragging her into trouble would be the last thing Fabrisse wanted.

Then the obvious choice would just be to decline the plan or at least propose another date. But saying no felt weirdly difficult. Not because he couldn't, but because it was Liene asking.

He scratched the side of his neck. "Let me . . . check my schedule?"

That wasn't a yes. But it wasn't a no, either.

Liene grinned like it was the best answer in the world. "Okay! I'll remind you when the day comes."

Before he could say anything else, she leaned in and gave his cheek a light pinch, briefer than usual.

"Don't flake on me, Mister 'I Forgot,'" she said. "Pie shop. I'm serious."

"Will Tom be there?"

"I don't know. But I'll be." Tom probably wouldn't be there.

And just like that, she turned and jogged off in the same direction Celine had gone, her hair bun bouncing behind her.

Fabrisse exhaled slowly and stared at the glyphs in the dust, the lines now smudged from Celine's footsteps.

He wasn't sure if that went well or not.